Long Lost
by BleedingCrimson
Summary: Dean and Sam come across violent killings that they just can't quite make heads or tails of. Ghouls, werewolves or just an angry ghost? True to the Winchester way they go in head first and figure it out as they go along. And the woman it's affecting? She's part of the problem, it seems. OC, no pairing. Genfic.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** BleedingCrimson here, thank you for taking an interest in this Supernatural fic, this is co-written by me and CrazyCousinEiko, she's wonderful and should get your praises as well. Her account has a couple things co-authored by me that isn't on here and her solo stuff is great too. Enjoy!

* * *

"I had a great time tonight," said a tall, rather dashing young man as he flashed his date a smile, though his eyes were roving up and down her body in an unsavoury fashion rather than meeting her gaze. "Though why stop the party now when we're having so much fun?"

"Hm," the woman muttered sleepily; she was a little intoxicated, though it was most likely done on purpose, getting her drunk, for further... _persuasion_. The man helped the woman stay standing with an arm around her waist and led her from the taxi into his home. She was stumbling, thoroughly sloshed, as he brought her to his abode. The man unlocked the door and let the both of them in. Her eyes were a little dull from all the wine, but she could stand on her own for a while.

Ushering her into his bedroom, he began undressing before realizing that she had passed out on his bed. An angry growl sounded all throughout the room, and it hadn't come from him. He whipped around, looking for whoever- or _whatever- _was in his house. He fumbled about his drawer for the gun he kept there. Nevermind that the weapon was illegal or that he had no clue how to use it. He just knew that guns were scary and deadly.

He tiptoed through the hallway and into the living room. To anyone who might have been watching, it would have been almost comical if not for the chilling noise emanating from somewhere in the house. The man shook- he was quite a coward, really- and had only enough time to see the window hanging from its latches when he felt searing pain across his back. He fell to the floor and thrashed, screaming, as something tore his insides out.

* * *

"I'm telling you, Dean, this looks like a hunt!" Sam argued, pacing back and forth across the seedy hotel room. Some days he wished they could afford something nicer, but it was all a part of the job.

"All you've shown me is a couple unrelated deaths in the middle of urban nowhere," Dean drawled, getting a little annoyed at his brother's insistence.

"But each of their hearts have been ripped out of their chests, they've all been mauled to death like from an animal, and from what I've seen, it looks like they're all around the same area."

"Whoa, you didn't say their hearts were all ripped out- now _that_ sounds like a hunt."

"Werewolf."

"Or were_wolves_." And with that reassurance Dean scooped up his belongings and headed to the car. Time for a hunt.

* * *

Metallica was pumping from the speakers of the car racing around a bend in the road. It was going about five miles over the speed limit, but they wouldn't have to worry about cops or their ilk until they passed the next town. Almost an entire day's worth of driving would get them to "urban nowhere," as Dean had so aptly put it before.

Other than the music, the car was permeated with silence, though it wasn't uncomfortable; neither of the brothers had anything left to talk about. That would have to wait until they reached the city for the Hunt, until they had some more clues as to what they were dealing with. It seemed pretty obvious to the both of them; however, things so straightforwardly arranged had a tendency to go pear-shaped in the worst ways.

Which is why they weren't surprised to see a crowd of bystanders and emergency vehicles when they rolled into town. Dean parked the car on a nearby street. The two got out and casually walked to the crime scene as if perfectly unaware of what had just transpired. Dean nudged his brother.

"Hey, Sammy, check out that hot chick over there."

Sam looked at his brother doubtfully. "You mean the one wearing the orange shock blanket?"

Dean grinned. "Yeah..."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Focus, Dean."

"I know, I know," the older brother replied, walking vaguely in the woman's direction. Sam sighed and walked toward one of the more knowledgeable looking bystanders.

"Excuse me, sir, but can you tell me what's going on?"

An old man with more wrinkles than Sam could count looked at him with a surprisingly sharp gaze. "The boy who lived here was murdered last night. Rather violently, too, like some animal got 'im. Serves him right, though."

Sam raised an eyebrow, which further encouraged the man.

"He was always bringing girls home. Pretty ones, like her, but obviously..." He struggled for a phrase for a moment or two, "not fully in control of their faculties. Knowing him, he probably filled their glasses a few times too many. He was a downright bastard, he was. The poor girl over there woke up this morning to find the window open and his corpse splattered all over the floor. She'll be having nightmares for years after this, I expect. Such a shame..."

He shook his head. Sam inwardly wished all of the people they had to get information out of would be so forthcoming.

"Sir, what was the man's name?"

"Tony Renshaw. Thought he was the best thing since sliced bread."

"Thank you, sir." Sam dipped his head and went to see if Dean was having any success. He wasn't surprised in the least when he found Dean "comforting" the woman in the shock blanket.

"I'm Koren, Koren Callahan. I'm sorry we had to meet under such unfortunate circumstances," Sam overheard the woman saying as he walked up. Her accent was Irish, just heavy enough to distinguish but not enough to really turn her words into an unintelligible slur. She clutched the blanket closer to herself in an effort to stave off the chills in the warm morning air.

"Ms. Callahan, My partner and I need to ask you some questions, if you don't mind." Sam added in his two cents before his brother could say anything else, likely not any help for their hunt.

"Yeah, that is fine, but the police already took my statement. Were you lying when you said I wasn't a suspect?" Her voice became smaller and colder all at once. Neither of the brothers was entirely sure how to deal with a quiet sort of anger and so were wary about how they stepped.

"No, ma'am, we're just hosting a side investigation, and in the end we'll collaborate our findings with the other team." Koren nodded and looked back to the ground. Dean took over from here. He was usually better at remembering what needed to be asked anyway; he'd done it for long enough.

"What do you remember of last night?"

"Well, he seemed like a nice guy, and our first date wasn't terrible, so I said yes when he asked me out on a second one." She glared at her feet dangling off the edge of the ambulance, making her look a little like a petulant child considering how small she looked compared to the vehicle. "I didn't realize it then, but every time I looked away, he had refilled my wineglass so I never noticed that I drank more than I should have. Especially thinking that I hadn't even polished off a single glass."

She sighed and continued. "I really don't remember much after that. We took a cab here, and he let us in, I was on the bed the next moment, all I remember is being entirely confused about that, and then it was morning, and I had a massive hangover." Koren squeezed her eyes shut as tight as she could until white spots flew behind her eyelids, and still the image wouldn't leave her.

"It was horrible. If I was any kind of drunk left, it sobered me up right fast. There was blood everywhere, except on me. Reached all the way to the opposite sides of the room, but somehow no blood or... guts landed on the bed where I was. It was very odd, now that I have time to think about it. But still, it was quite the frightening sight, and I screamed, loudly if what I'm told is right." She looked a little sheepish at the revelation but soldiered on with nary a blush to bring any color to her bloodless face, "I dialled 911 in a panic, and the next thing I know I'm being carried out of the apartment by a policeman and wrapped in this horrendous sea of orange. That's all I know, I'm sorry."

"Thank you for your time," Dean said politely with a nod. Sam cut off his brother before he could flirt any further,

"We shouldn't need anything else. We are sincerely sorry about all of this."

"No, it's fine. I just hope they catch the thing that's doing this soon..." Koren pleaded softly to their backs, still not really looking at them.

"What do you mean, _thing_?" Dean about-faced at the odd wording; maybe she knew something more than she was telling. Always a possibility.

"I mean, that it can't possibly be a human that's done this, it's just too _brutal_ and animalistic. There's got to be some sort of explanation to all of this, and I want to know what it is, especially..." Her eyes were bright and confident and pointed directly at the Winchester brothers for the first time. Dark brown and full of everything, worldly some would say, world weary would she. Even as her voice faltered her eyes stayed alert. "Especially because it's been following me, I think."

"You think...?" Sam asked quietly.

"They were all my... dates."

"Now, that _is_ interesting," Dean murmured to his brother. Sam only nodded, quietly gears whirred in his head, trying to put this new piece in place on the puzzle. There seemed to be something else she wasn't telling them, but it was obvious that they would have to gain her trust before she said anything more.

"Do you think..." Sam said slowly, choosing his words carefully, "Do you think that perhaps this thing will eventually come after you?"

"I... don't know." She said, her words halting, and it was obvious she had thought about it before. "It hasn't ever shown itself to me. No unexplained anything or even shadows on the walls. It's all rather odd, only going after the men after I've gone to sleep or they leave."

Sam and Dean shared a look. This was definitely a job.

* * *

It was late. It was late and the Winchester brothers were still awake. That was no surprise given their chosen job, but still, it was past midnight and nothing had happened. _Yet_. That one word was enough to propel them through the night. 'Yet' was such a powerful word, and it could mean just about anything, from good to bad, and in their line of work it wasn't a word they liked to hear or use often if they could help it, though usually they couldn't.

"So, what do you think it is?" Sam asked, long since having settled into the passenger seat of the Impala. "From the looks of those corpses earlier, it definitely didn't look like anything human killed them."

"Definitely not. That'd be one twisted bastard if it were. I'd say it was a werewolf."

"Yeah, that seems about right, with the ripped out hearts. But there's something not right here... Maybe a Black Dog?"

Dean nodded. "Maybe..."

"Interesting how it only attacks men she's gone out with, though..."

"Yeah, and how she doesn't fall under suspicion of anyone despite being near the scene of the crime."

Sam looked over at the house, which was still quiet. "I mean, what would her motive be? Maybe one or two of them made a move on her that she didn't like, but unless she has some vendetta against men, there isn't really any reason it would be her. Besides, she doesn't look strong enough to command anything that would do that kind of damage."

"No, though she does look very-"

"_Focus_, Dean," Sam interrupted, rolling his eyes, and snapping his fingers in front of his brother's face.

"What? I _am_." Sam sighed but didn't argue. He didn't feel up to fighting his brother.

The night was long, and they had nothing to show for it once it was over other than tired eyes and an intense need for caffeine.

A yawn split Dean's face as he shielded his half-closed eyes from the bright, morning sun. That had never been something he enjoyed. Sure he was fine with stakeouts, but what really put a damper on his mood was the sun coming up so cheerily at the end of it. Sometimes he really wanted to just shoot at it and see if he could put out the sun permanently. Then he'd rethink that, because there would most definitely be a lot more monsters to fight if it actually worked...

"C'mon, let's go get something to eat," Dean said, driving away from the house. Sam mumbled something in acknowledgement, too tired to form coherent sentences. Neither saw the unnaturally dark, shadowed face peek out of the curtains and watch them drive away.


	2. Chapter 2

Sam yawned into his eggs and bacon at the nearby diner Dean had driven to. Dean just smirked into his third cup of coffee. Even if Sammy had been in college, his all nighters were still like sprints compared to Dean's endurance running type of 'all weekers.'

"What are we gonna do, Dean? We can't just camp out at her house until something happens..."

Dean sighed, and shrugged, not wanting to admit aloud that he just didn't know. He had a feeling it would take a while for the next target to show up.

"We get a cheap ass motel room and keep interacting with the chick until something happens. If we're lucky it won't take long. If we're not, well..." He grimaced and took another swig of his coffee signaling the end of his short list of ideas.

"If it's a werewolf, then the attacks will only happen around the full moon, meaning we'll have to wait a whole 'nother month until-" he blinked and frowned at Dean. "Dean, did we check to see if any of the attacks fell on a full moon? Because I don't think they did..."

Dean blinked. "No, they didn't. Last night wasn't a full moon. It's been getting smaller, waning or whatever it's called. Shit. Maybe you're onto something with the Black Dogs. But don't they take souls, not hearts?"

"As far as I know, that's how it goes..." He thoughtfully ate his breakfast. "If it's not a werewolf, and it isn't a Black Dog, then what could it be? Do you think it's trying to imitate a werewolf or something?"

"Maybe, but is there anything that smart other than a demon? Because demons don't give a shit about who they piss off, and everything else is usually just too insane to think that well."

Sam's brows furrowed. "I don't know..."

"I'd say angry ghost, it's got the consistent MO of one, but I've never even heard of a ghost mimicking a werewolf or any other creature."

"Yeah. That'd be... weird. Possible, I guess, but... nah, probably not."

Dean stifled a yawn by forcing his mouth to stay closed with sheer will power before suggesting they find a motel to board up in. Perhaps they'd talk to Callahan later. Hopefully they could catch her at her place, maybe something would reveal it all. Now to figure out whether he should flirt his way into her house or slip in while she was out...

"Well, you know what we have to do now," Dean said, smirking. Sam, who did not find the next step as obvious as his brother, gave him a long-suffering look. The elder continued, "Well, if the thing only goes after her 'dates,' then one of us is going to have to be her date!"

"Oh god, _really_, Dean? The girl's last date died only yesterday! You think she's _really_ going to want to go out again so soon?"

"Don't worry, I volunteer." He smirked roguishly.

"Of _course_ you do," he muttered. Why didn't he ever get the pretty girls? Just the stupid demon-possessed ones... "Fine. If that's the only way to draw this thing out, so be it. But only because I'm not being the bait this time."

Dean's smirk widened as he clapped his little brother's back. "Let's rock and roll."

* * *

Metallica blasted out the open windows as the Impala drove along the main road. Sam gazed boredly out the window until he spied something.

"Dean, I think that's her, at the cemetery!"

Dean wheeled the car around and parked just down the street. However, they didn't get out, deciding to watch her for now.

Koren sat, staring at a single tombstone for what seemed like hours to the Winchester boys. She alternated between praying, just sitting and staring, talking to the deceased and cleaning the burial site. They couldn't hear what she was saying, the car was too far away for that, but they could easily guess. Most people acted the same around a grave, falling into one of two categories. The first was those people who couldn't stand being surrounded by the dead and paid their dues as quickly as possible and the second category contained people who liked to reminisce and mope and sulk around certain graves of loved ones and treat them as if the person were still alive and simply stuck in one spot.

It was rather obvious which category Koren fell rather neatly into.

"Hey," Dean smacked Sam in the gut to get his attention, "Hey, did'ja see that?" His eyes were squinted in concentration, and they didn't leave whatever they were looking at.

"No, what is it?" Sam's voice was whisper-like, mimicking his brother's, and was urgent sounding.

"Her hair..." Sam just gave his brother a disapproving look and a silent, judging sigh.

"Dean, we're not here to oogle, though I never knew you had a thing for-"

"Sammy, shut up. I know that, and I wasn't talking about her, I was talking about her hair. There's no wind, not even up in the trees, and her hair's moving like there is. 'Fact, I think there's something with her..."

"Do you think she's in danger?" Sam asked suddenly, realizing his brother was right.

"I don't know, but it doesn't seem to be hurting her. Yet."

Sam sighed; he really hated that word. In fact, he knew Dean did too. Meant they had to stay in one place longer than they would have liked usually.

For his part, Dean simply sat there and watched her, keeping a sharp eye out for anything out of the ordinary. Finally he unbuckled and opened the door.

"I think we're just going to have to see things for ourselves."

"Dean, are you sure that's a good idea?" Sam knew his brother was right, but at the same time he felt like they would be intruding on something extremely personal. The thought made him uncomfortable.

"Of course I'm sure. I'm _always_ sure."

Sam shook his head but unbuckled and got out of the vehicle as well.

Koren's back was to them as they walked up to the grave.

"What brings a couple of reporters here? Know anyone?" Her eyes were still closed and her hands were still together in silent prayer. The dry leaves on the ground from the old-as-time trees that were spread throughout the cemetery crunched loudly as a person walked over them.

"Not really. Got a few more questions for you though." Dean supplied in his usual suave manner.

"How is it that the police don't suspect you for all these killings? I mean, if it's following you, isn't that a conclusion they usually come to?"

Koren sighed, "Yeah, for a while they did." She shifted into a different sitting position but still didn't turn around to look at them. It annoyed Dean a little to be dismissed so easily. But she continued anyway, "Then it happened more, and I was on security feed that was timestamped the time and date of death more often than not... well, that has a way of clearing your name relatively fast apparently. That and there was never blood on me when they found me helped a bit, I suppose."

"Never blood, you say?" Dean had to admit, that did help her case, though blood could always be washed off. Still... "Was the blood usually spread across a large area?"

"Usually the entire room, if they were in one. If they weren't then the radius was pretty big. It was grotesque and brutal. Before all this, I didn't even know the human body could lose so much blood and still have there be some left in the body..."

Dean nodded sympathetically. "That's gotta be tough."

"You can't even imagine... that guilt, it's terrible. Something I don't think I'll ever get over. It's all my fault, you know, that they died. I knew that thing was following me, attacking the men I got close to, and that its tolerance for those men was diminishing rapidly. I still went out with them, said yes. I could have turned them down, and even if they all thought I was some ice-queen, it would have been better because they would still be alive to think that..."

Sam gently said, "Ms. Callahan, it's _not_ your fault. I can just tell by looking- you're a good woman. You aren't hurting these men on purpose."

"Perhaps, but I didn't stop it either. Doesn't the saying go, that for evil to triumph, good men only have to stand by? I think a person who does not stop the man who throws the stone is just as guilty as the man who threw it." Koren stood and whirled around the face the two men.

"If you are done, I would like to go now." Her voice was no longer as soft as it had been when she was kneeled on top the grave and speaking towards the headstone. A bundle of common daisies resting prettily and a few candles freshly blown out on the shining obsidian base of the equally dark tombstone, it was a near perfect reflection the three that was only marred by the cream engraving that read _James Callahan_, nothing more and nothing less.

"Of course. We're very sorry," Sam apologized with a polite nod, stepping out of the woman's way.

"Wait, one more question. Who is that?" Dean slipped into the conversation. Sam elbowed him to get him to shut up, but the damage had already been done.

"He... was my brother." Koren said tightly, a frown drawn on her face. "Twin brother, to be exact."

"Twin, eh?" Dean muttered beneath his breath. That was interesting. Hadn't met too many people who were twins. "Older or younger?"

"Older. Five minutes."

Dean only nodded and seemed to lose himself deep in his thoughts. Sam could almost see cogs turning.

"I'm sorry for his questions."

"No, it is fine, it's been thirteen years a week ago. I'm adjusted by now..." Koren said softly.

"Either way, I'm sorry for your loss. Here," Sam produced a card from his pocket. Luckily they were the plain kind with only his 'occupation.' He and Dean had a couple different ones, and his number. "Call me if you need to talk, I know what it's like to be without a brother, and it's not something you get over easily, no matter how long it's been."

He did know- Dean had almost died plenty of times, been in a coma for a while and even been downright lost, so yeah, he knew. Maybe not to the extent she did, but it was close enough.

She nodded and thanked him silently with a small smile that didn't seem at all happy, then she continued her way out of the cemetery between the iron gates.

"I've got an idea. Let's go to the library." Dean said suddenly, shaking himself out of his reverie. He grabbed Sam by the arm and nearly dragged him to the car before booking it to the newspaper archive section.

"What are we looking for?" Sam asked. He knew that his brother had an idea, but Sam hadn't caught on to what it was.

"Any death like the ones we've been seeing, or any unexplained death or cold case in the past thirteen years. Actually, lay out the explained ones too." Dean ordered as he shuffled through papers, separating them into different piles in a system that made sense only to him, his eyes dancing over the printed text like a dingy in stormy waters, without rhyme or reason but quickly and forcefully. He powered through through papers quickly and efficiently, and Sam couldn't help but admire how good he'd gotten at research, as long as there's something physical in his hands for him to search though.

"Strange..." Sam mused. "It hasn't been so much that it's noticeable, but there have been a steady increase of deaths over the past decade..."

"Past thirteen years, to be exact," Dean corrected. "Right around the time the brother died. Some of these are accidents, but looking at the victims, they could have easily been bullies or people that were close to Ms. Callahan in some way."

"So you think we really are dealing with a ghost, then?"

"Looks like it. A very clever ghost, especially considering how young he was when he died... he had to be what, ten years old? Not many kids are that smart. Makes me wonder how he died in the first place..."

Sam nodded, then frowned. "How long do you think it's going to take before his spirit stops protecting her? I'm assuming that's what it's doing. If its recent attacks are any indication, James's spirit is growing less tolerant than it used to be. It's only a matter of time before it turns on her."

"I don't know. I want to say it won't, ever, because it's the spirit of her older brother, and he obviously takes that responsibility seriously, but," here Dean sighed and rubbed his face, "the spirit's degrading, and it looks like that spiral into plain old violence is getting steeper the longer he sticks around..."

"So what are we gonna do? We know where the grave is, but Koren maintains it so well that I'd say we'd get caught before we could even start trying to salt and burn the thing."

"Yeah, that's a problem, though it's not really our problem as along as we haul ass outta here once we finish..."

"Maybe..." he paused. With the way that Koren so lovingly kept the site... "Do you think that she's part of what's keeping him here? Not just his desire to watch over her, but her attachment to him? Even for twins, for her to still be acting like that after 13 years... it's not _bad_, just not normal."

"It's possible; I haven't really heard anything like that ever happening before, but nothing about this hunt is normal in the first place." Dean drawled, annoyed. Sometimes hunts were fun, but this one was just complicated and kept getting weirder.

Sam sighed. He didn't want to hurt the woman. She had already been hurt enough. But it seemed there was no way around it- she was just too involved in this case to keep her in the dark about it.

"So, what now? We tell her everything?" Sam asked. Dean shook his head.

"Even if she does seem like she knows it's not human, I don't think she'll take hearing that her brother is a homicidal ghost very well."

"Then what?"

"I'm not sure, Sammy," As much as it pained him to say it, and the hurt was almost physical, it was the truth and there was no use trying to deny it at this point. "We're Winchesters," Dean said, clapping his brother on the back and standing up to leave. "We'll figure something out; we always do."

Sam nodded and put the information back where it belonged. Even if they _were_ supposed to be reporters, it'd be odd to be digging into these archives. Suddenly, his phone rang- rather loudly, too, especially since they were in a library. He fumbled with the device for a few seconds before finally managing to get it open.

"Hello, Sam here."

"Uh, Sam," The Irish accent was shaking, and he knew who it was immediately, "I- it's happened again. But I saw it this time." Before he could say anything he heard the phone slam to the ground and faint retching noises.

* * *

**A/N:** Remember, reviews are always appreciated. We like to learn about what we can work on and fix~!


	3. Chapter 3

"We're Winchesters," Dean said, clapping his brother on the back and standing up to leave. "We'll figure something out; we always do."

Sam nodded and put the information back where it belonged. Even if they _were_ supposed to be reporters, it'd be odd to be digging into these archives. Suddenly, his phone rang- rather loudly, too, especially since they were in a library. He fumbled with the device for a few seconds before finally managing to get it open.

"Hello, Sam here."

"Uh, Sam," The Irish accent was shaking, and he knew who it was immediately, "I- it's happened again. But I saw it this time." Before he could say anything he heard the phone slam to the ground and faint retching noises.

"Koren? Koren, where are you?" He asked, a little too loudly for a library. Dean shot him a look. When it was obvious that she wasn't going to answer, he lowered the phone and looked at his brother.

"Normally I'd congratulate you for actually making a move, but dude! I saw her first! So not cool!"

"Now's not the time, Dean. It's happened again, and she saw it this time," Sam said quickly, ignoring his brother in favor of getting to the distraught caller. "Koren, can you tell me where you are?" He had to repeat the question once Koren realized he was talking and was able to pick up the phone again.

"Ah, yeah. I'm, um, I'm right by the churchyard. In the back of it, by the altar."

"Alright. Keep calm. Dean and I will get there as fast as we can," Sam reassured her, grabbing a map of the town. "We're just leaving the library now. Do you want me to stay on?"

"Yes, yes please." Her breathing was getting slower and deeper, and while usually this was a good sign, it could very well mean she was going into shock, and that was most definitely not a good thing. Sam and Dean were already in their car and on their way.

"Koren, can you tell me what happened? It's alright if you want to wait until we get there, but the more we know in advance, the easier it will be to help you."

"I don't know, Sam. I don't know what happened!" She wasn't loud, but she was definitely snapping out of the 'detached' state of shock and into the much more involved hysteria. The tone in her voice was not good- to be expected, of course, but still not good for her safety.

"That's fine, just stay calm. We're nearly there. Do you know if what attacked... whoever it was is still there?"

"No, I hope to God it isn't. I don't know what it was, I didn't even really see it. It's all a blur. Not the attack, I remember that too well, but the _thing_, Sam. I could barely see it, just a big... blur."

Dean swerved into the nearest parking space, and both of the men jumped out of the car and retrieved their weapons. They rushed into the churchyard through the open gate and spied the distraught woman... and a dead body at her feet. Dean kept an eye out for the ghost while Sam got to Ms. Callahan. He slowly put a comforting arm around her, lightly enough so that if she didn't want it, she could easily shrug it off.

Koren clung to Sam like a frightened child, her head was buried in his shirt and her fingers were like claws on his arms, making sure that he wouldn't be torn out from her grip so easily.

"Koren, you have to tell me, what happened. Who is he?" Sam coached in a soft but firm voice, guiding her out of a panic attack before it happened. It was much easier to prevent one than fix one.

"I- I was talking to Brother Mortissan and all of a sudden something happens. I don't know what, but it's horrible. One second he's smiling at me and suggesting someplace nearby that's good to sit and think quietly in and the next," here she gasped in a ragged breath that seemed to shake her entire body, "the next moment he's on the ground with his mouth open in a horrible scream that I can't hear. I don't know if my ears weren't working or something was doing something, but I couldn't hear him crying for help, I couldn't move until it was all over either.

"I wa-was just standing there and I couldn't do anything! He was mangled right before my eyes, and I couldn't even figure out what the hell was attacking him. It was like a shadow. No, it was more like a complete person made out of shadows; it wasn't flat- it had a body, and it moved like a person. It was big and small and fast and terrifying."

She stopped, her story over for now, and her breaths were still shuddering. The sound of her quiet cries, muffled by Sam's shirt and chest, was all that could be heard over the younger brother's shushing noises and barely-there "it's all over, we're here now, it'll be okay"s.

"I- I was so scared." Koren said, so softly that Sam was absolutely sure that if he wasn't so close to her he wouldn't have heard it. He nodded and positioned his arm more protectively around her despite the fact that the ghost would probably want to kill him for doing it.

Dean, meanwhile, was keeping watch for the ghost. He knew it was clever, but he also knew that its sanity was slipping, which meant that it was more likely to make a mistake that would let them send it away for good. Suddenly, he saw a blur heading toward his brother. He aimed his gun and called,

"Sam! Look out!"

The younger brother looked up in time to see his brother's usually perfect aim miss as the ghost avoided the bullet.

"Dammit!" Dean swore loudly, rushing over to the other two. If they didn't put this ghost down for good, things were going to get ugly _fast_.

Sam reached for his own gun behind him and did his best to aim and shoot the damn thing himself. His non-gun hand and arm was wrapped around Koren's head as she trembled, and he protected her as best he could with a constantly moving target. Suddenly, he was wrenched away from the young woman and thrown across the floor. Then, a boy about ten years of age with black hair and deep set, dark brown eyes appeared, standing between him and Koren. He glared at Sam and, even though he was a ghost, the younger Winchester could see the boy's fists were clenched and trembling in fury.

"Don't touch my sister!" he shouted. His voice echoed in the churchyard. "She's _mine!_"

Koren gasped and she reached out to the little boy like a frightened animal might, her hand trembling something fierce.

"Ji- Jimmy? Is that you?" She asked. Then, without warning she lunged for the boy and held him tight in her arms. Tears ran down her face and to the Winchester brothers she looked very much, in that moment, like a mother who had learned her child was still alive.

"Korey, shh, I'm here. It's ok, Korey," The small boy was, for some reason, solid and allowed himself to be hugged, all the while comforting her like an elder brother ought to.

Sam and Dean shared a look- what should they do now? They couldn't get rid of the little bugger until he was far enough away from Koren that they wouldn't hurt her as well, and now, more than ever, they had a sinking feeling that it was all going to go even more pear-shaped from here on.

The little boy clung to his sister, his fingers gripping the fabric of her shirt and his whole body pressed against her as if he never wanted to let her go again. The woman gasped and went pale.

"Shh, Korey," Jim soothed. "I know it doesn't feel good, but it won't last long, I promise. Soon I'll be solid, a real boy again, and we can live together just like we used to. I won't be just a guardian angel anymore. I'll be _real_."

Koren's legs fell out from under her, but Jim kept her from collapsing to the floor, instead lowering her gently. However, he didn't move away- in fact, he clung even more tightly to her.

"I know it's been hard for you to be without me to defend you in person, but I've done my best to keep you safe. I've taken the energy from each horrible person I've gotten rid of and saved it, hoping someday to be a boy again. I've waited and waited, and now I just need a little help from you. We'll be so happy together."

He closed his eyes and smiled- not a creepy or sadistic smile, but one that told of the loneliness and hardship he had suffered for the past ten years and the hope of finally reaching his goal. Koren couldn't help but return the smile even though the rest of her expression spoke of pain a little bit of terror. Then, she said something that astounded the two looking on, watching and waiting for any opening at all.

"But, Jim, you're dead. Dead people can't come back to life no matter how much I wish they could. Jimmy," she took a ragged breath, obviously still in the unseen pain, "you have to let go and move on. Though it might be my fault a little too- did I keep you from moving on like you should have?"

Her eyes spoke of a pain not entirely physical as she continued to hug her brother, even as he stole some of her life force. He pulled just far enough away from her to meet her gaze. His round eyes filled up with tears, making him look like a heartbroken fawn.

"Don't you _want_ me back, Korey? I thought you loved me!"

Sam and Dean readied their salt guns. They knew the little boy's sadness would probably turn into rage, and no matter how much Jim loved his sister, he wouldn't hold back from hurting her.

"I do, I do, Jim! I promise, I do love you, I pagoda promise!" Koren assured frantically, but it was to no avail. Jim glared at her then clung to her tightly once more.

"If you won't let me come back to _you_, then I'm just going to have to take you with _me!_"

Well, this was new. Sam had never seen a ghost as it decided to kill. That was one for the records. And as often as Dean had seen it, really it had only been once before when he was much younger, watching a spirit reach that conclusion would always be a little frightening. However, he had to give the little ghost boy props-it had taken him thirteen years to finally go bat-shit insane...

Jim suddenly released his sister, who crumpled to the ground. At that moment Sam whipped out his gun and shot the ghost. He ran over to the woman, who was lying on her side, and gingerly rolled her over onto her back. He wasn't a medical expert, or maybe he was by now with all the patching up hunts tended to warrant, but he knew enough to help someone who was in shock (or possible shock).

"Koren! Koren, are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine... was- was that really," Koren swallowed hard and forced herself to speak without her voice wavering, "was that really my brother?"

Sam took a moment to figure out how to word it delicately before Dean bluntly stated, "Yeah, he _was_. Like you said, he's dead now. That's his ghost, or spirit or whatever you want to call it." Sam sighed; the look on her face said that she just couldn't believe that her brother, ghost or not, had actually just attacked her.

"Ghosts... deteriorate." He couldn't think of a much better word than that. "The longer they're on this Earth the faster they go mad. They become violent and eventually turn into angry spirits that attack anything and everything they find. It's actually very unusual for a ghost to go thirteen years without attacking someone. Well, that's not quite the case, but maybe it didn't go for you until now because it was focusing its efforts on 'protecting' you and killing the men that got close to you..." Sam was thinking aloud now more than explaining, but it was fine because Koren wasn't listening any more.

"My brother killed all those people to _protect_ me?!"

"Better believe it, honey. He's a big brother no matter how shrimpy he was, that's what they do."

Koren looked up at Dean in an odd way, like she couldn't really figure out what to think of him at the moment. He scratched his neck a little embarrassed at his inadvertent admission; there was a reason he didn't do the soppy, chick flick stuff.

"Koren... there is a way to send him on, for good, but we're going to need your cooperation. Will you help us?"

"Yes, of course. What do we need to do?" she said, steeling herself. Her brother had done so much for her, even if she didn't necessarily agree with it, so this was the least she could do to repay him, even if he didn't like it. She wasn't ready to die, and he needed to move on to rest in peace; she would find him when the time came, no sooner and not later.

"We need to go to his grave," Sam explained. "We need to dig him up, then salt and burn the bones. Unless he was cremated, that should make him move on."

"No, he wasn't cremated, just buried." She looked a little green at the prospect of digging up a grave, but it had to be done.

"You don't have to look," Sam reassured her, picking up on her reluctance to dig up the grave. "But it seems like his ghost has attached himself to you rather than a place, so in order to protect you, you need to stay with us until we can send him on for good. The rock salt can only repel him for so long."

Sam slowly helped Koren to her feet, and when he was sure that she was steady, began walking. Thankfully for them, the graveyard was nearby, so they didn't have to risk Jim coming back while they were in the car. That could have been _disastrous_. Dean, meanwhile, was keeping a sharp eye out for Jim's ghost.

"C'mon, guys. Let's hurry this up. The sooner we get this done, the better. This case is seriously weirding me out."

And it was true- a ghost that came out in the day and acted like a werewolf? That was just too weird, even for him. He normally preferred hunting ghosts because they fit certain patterns and followed certain rules. This one seemed to turn the tables on them, and Dean didn't like it in the least.

"Wait, right now?" Koren looked around; it was getting dark, so she supposed it made sense, but her head was still spinning from everything that had happened, and she wasn't sure if she was up for actually upturning her twin's grave at the moment.

"Yeah, now. No time like the present," Dean gruffed out, heading back over to his beloved Impala and dug around in the back for the basic salt n' burn kit of shovels, salt, kerosene and matches.

"Don't worry," Sam reassured her, "You won't have to do any of the actual digging- it's just easier if we have your permission, is all. Plus like I said before, his ghost seems to be attached to you. We don't want him trying to kill you again."

"Alright." Koren agreed. She knew it was the right thing to do, but it didn't make it any easier. At least she didn't have to dig, she wasn't sure if she could handle it, physically or emotionally. Not with how demanding digging would be on her still tense muscles or how heart wrenching it would be to uncover the bones of the little boy that was her other half. No, she was infinitely glad the brothers were here to do that part for her, an objective third, and fourth, party.

Sam took off his jacket and laid it on the ground a little ways from the grave- far enough so that she wouldn't see what they uncovered but close enough for the brothers to come to her aid if need be.

"Why don't you have a seat? This might take a little while..."

"Yeah, I think I should." She wasn't normally so... damsel-in-distress-esque, but ghosts and spirits were definitely _far_ out of her area of expertise. She was a glorified secretary damnit; she did everything _but _deal with the dead, usually. She had to arrange a funeral once.

Dean and Sam shared a look that spoke of silent conversation, and Koren couldn't help but feel a sharp pang of envy somewhere in her gut. She and Jim had been like that, and they could have still if he was alive... Dean's shovel bit deeply into the turf, and the crunch-shifting sound it made grated on Koren's ears and brought her out of that line of thought. She was a little grateful; thinking about such things only made a person bitter, and for all she knew it might bring her brother's ghost back, and that wasn't something she was particularly keen on at the moment, seeing as he wanted to kill her...

"Here we are," Dean said triumphantly half an hour later. He picked up the salt and handed it to Sam. "Let's torch this sucker and be done with it!"

Sam gave him a reproachful look. "Dean! Don't be so callous!"

"What?" he said, then remembered about the woman near them. Koren had been so quiet that he'd forgotten she was even there.

Koren didn't say anything but she did level Dean with quite the nasty look that she believed got her point across. Her brother wasn't a sucker, he died protecting her, and even if he wasn't what he use to be, she wasn't going to let anyone demean that.

"Yeah, sorry," Dean grumbled beneath his breath, he wasn't use to relatives on the hunt, made it difficult sometimes. At least this one wasn't hard on the eyes and didn't make too much of a fuss other than when being directly attacked. She wasn't too bad for a normal civilian.

Sam sighed and shook his head at his brother's callousness. He definitely wasn't the most sympathetic person in the world. Dusk had long since passed and faded into night; it was an autumn month so dark fell quickly and almost without warning. Now all that lit the three and the grave between them were a handful of stars and the moon, small as it was.

Dean poured the gasoline over the corpse and Sam salted it. The older brother then pulled out the matchbox, but before he could light one, the box was knocked out of his hand. He whipped out his salt gun in a flash, trying to find the little boy in the darkness.

'Dammit, he's back!"

Sam stood protectively in front of Koren, who had been standing to be next to the grave for the burning. She felt it was the least she could do to watch and honor her brother as he burned. A shifting black shadow knocked Sam down to the ground and flew away back out of sight.

"I hate when they get smart..." Dean grunted through grit teeth. Sam just groaned and rubbed his head. It hit him pretty good, right in the chest, and he found it a hard to breathe after it winded him. At least it didn't opt to choke him like all the other spirits seemed wont to do.

A shadow moved in the blackness and Dean shot at it, seemingly getting a hit if the sound was anything to go by. Unfortunately, it only angered the spirit, and it attacked Dean with a vengeance, ripping the gun out of his hands and forcing Dean to the ground with too-solid hands on his throat, strangling him.

Koren assessed the situation as well as her adrenaline-addled mind would allow her; Sam still couldn't breathe quite right, Dean was in immediate danger, and the matches were missing. So, she did what any sane person would do- drop to her knees and shuffle around in the grass searching for the matches. She summoned all her courage as best she could for what she knew she would have to do. Her frantic search produced no results for what seemed like hours, though logically she knew it had only been seconds. Matches, matches, where were those damned matches?! Her mind screamed at her to just _do better!_ and to find the matches; that's all she had to do, and why was such a simple task so hard for her when lives were on the line?!

Finally, she found them. Not bothering to triumphantly hold them in the air, she pivoted on her knees and almost dropped the matchbox into the grave where it surely would have been rendered useless once soaked in the liquid fire starter.

Jim suddenly appeared, standing between her and the grave. However, instead of trying to kill her, he simply stood there. The boy studied her mournfully, his eyes dark and round and skin pale in the dim lighting of the cemetery. He really did resemble a fawn...

"So you really don't need me any more?"

Tears poured out of her eyes as she held his stare. She didn't want to, but she had to, he had to know that! She mouthed a silent, sobbing _sorry_ as she dropped the match onto the bones, and it lit up like a sun being birthed from the Earth. A tear fell from each of his eyes, and, as he fell away into ash on the wind, she heard him whisper in her ear,

"I still love you anyway, Korey."

* * *

"Again, I'm so sorry about this, Koren," Sam apologized for what felt like the thousandth time. He and Dean were sitting in Miss Callahan's living room. She had graciously let them freshen up and spend what was left of the night in her living room.

"No," she leveled Sam with a glare worthy of even a Winchester, "It had to be done. I understand. It's in the past now and it will stay in the past. He won't be hurting other people I choose to associate myself with now. For that I should be thanking you for, actually." She nodded at the both of them.

"You're... welcome," Dean replied. Sam only nodded, still a bit shocked by Koren's glare. Dean stood up and continued, "Thank you for letting us rest here, but we've got to get going."

"Yeah, alright." Screwing up all her courage, Koren banished any reservations she had to the furthest corners of her mind and pounced on the two in a hug. She looped one arm around each of them, or at least as much as she could. She wasn't all that small but these two definitely weren't tiny.

"Thank you. It helps to know my brother really has moved on now. I had a feeling he didn't, so I visited his grave every week and prayed for him. So, thank you." She cleared her throat and let go of the two before stepping back and opening the door for them. Her head was high, but she avoided eye contact, because that would just be a little _too_ awkward for her.

Sam nodded, smiling a little. "You're welcome. If you ever need us again, give us a call."

Dean saluted and was about to leave when he suddenly asked, "By the way, back at the church you said 'pagoda promise.' What's that about?"

"Oh," Koren perked up, looking surprised that he had caught the phrase in the first place. "When Jim and I were much younger we were taught about pinky promises, but this was right after we had both broken our pinkies. Sure, we each had another, but we figured that pinky promises would break too easily, like pinkies, and started thinking about what would make a better promise. Then we came across the wonders that are pagodas. They've survived for so long, and many of them had lived on through natural disasters, so we ended up using it as a sort of 'unbreakable vow' type promise..." Koren was smiling shyly, her eyes closed and rubbing the back of her neck in embarrassment, and there was even a bit of red to her cheeks.

Dean nodded, smirking a little, though in a friendly way, if that were even possible.

"I can dig that."

Sam snorted at his brother's language. He really was stuck in another decade. Playfully shoving his brother out the door, he smiled and gave another brief nod to Koren before exiting as well. And with that, the brothers were gone out of Koren's life and driving toward their next adventure.

* * *

Sam was paging through the journal Daddy Winchester had left the two of them and he came across something that caught his attention. A single line of red numbers that stood out from the rest of the black ink their dad had written in. GPS coordinates. N51 31.06476 E0 5.77794.

"Dean, look." Sam shoved the book into his brother's face, they were at an abandoned stop light anyway, that had seen reason in stopping them with no one to wait for. Dean was pretty close to running the light by this point, they had been waiting for it for at least a full minute now.

"Yeah, so? Probably just an old hunt." He shrugged.

"I don't think so, Dean. This is in Europe." Dean just shot him a weird look.

"So you memorize coordinates now?"

"No, I don't. I just know that this is out of America, ok?"

"Whatever." Dean rolled his eyes and shouted a 'finally' before putting the pedal to the metal, as it were, causing the Impala to jump forward in an effort of the chassis to catch up with the engine.

"Dad's never gone across seas, and you know it, Dean. And what else is on here, deaths keep happening, pretty violently actually, every couple years at specific times in the same way. But the odd thing is, it doesn't seem like an angry ghost..."

"Just like this last one didn't seem like an angry ghost either?" He snorted but kept his eyes out for a nearby town. And why was there even a stoplight so far away from any kind of civilization anyway? Looked pretty old.

"Yeah, a bit like it. It's going to get dark soon anyway, so I say we stop at the nearest motel or whatever, get some food and sleep and do some more research."

"Yeah, yeah, fine."

* * *

**A/N: **There will be a sequel up to this about the Winchester brothers' adventure in England, so stay tuned!


End file.
